All Our Firsts Were Accidents
by mooselphant
Summary: All of Sherlock's and John's firsts (first kiss, first date, first time saying "i love you") were accidents. How? Read and find out!


Chapter 1: Accidental Kiss

Sherlock knew three things at this very moment. The first was he had not wanted to come to this party. It was full of idiots. He had no idea why he'd let John drag him along. The second was that he absolutely detested watching John dance with girls. What did John see in them anyway? They were just…so...ugh! The third was that he was not going to let himself be upset about the fact that John had been talking, no _flirting_, with one girl in particular for twenty-six minutes now.

But who was counting? Certainly not Sherlock (who had worn his nicest, purple shirt in hope of catching John's attention) and now stood in the corner jealously watching the girl laugh at whatever John had just said.

_Stupid girl, _he thought angrily, _no doubt she'll be John's new girlfriend. They'll be so happy for a few weeks and then she'll break up with him because of some stupid reason like 'I'm just not ready to be in a serious relationship!' or 'You're really nice, but your friend is such a freak!'_

That was Sherlock- the freak. The freak who was there to pick up the broken pieces of John after every heartbreak. The freak who knew John better than any of the shorter boy's girlfriends. The freak who no one wanted to be friends with, except John. Brilliant, wonderful John, who Sherlock had been thoroughly in love with for several years.

Suddenly, a slightly tipsy boy called Anderson called out to the room,

"Everyone! Truth or dare in the"- hic- "in the den."

All the teens (it was a relatively small party) made their way to the den. Sherlock, again, stood in the corner and resentfully noted the girl sit in John's lap as the boy sat on a sofa.

"I'll start!" yelled a boy named Lestrade, who was also slightly drunk. (Everyone was, really.) "Anderson, truth or dare?"

"Dare," said Anderson confidently.

"I dare you to," Lestrade thought for a second, "switch clothes with Donovan!"

"What?" said both Anderson and the girl named Donovan who was wearing very feminine attire.

"You heard me! C'mon, you chose dare!"

With this and general encouragement from the room, Anderson and Donovan left the room.

"Shoes too?" Donovan called from down the hall.

"Of course! Wouldn't want to miss Anderson in those red pumps!"

The two returned a little later than what seemed an appropriate time for their task.

The party- goers laughed hysterically at Anderson in Donovan's tight fitted party dress and heels and Donovan in sagging jeans, a plaid shirt, and oversized boots. The two, very red in the face, left quickly to go switch clothes.

The game went on for a little while, the tasks and questions ranging from hilarious to tedious. Sherlock was idly thinking of sneaking outside to smoke when he heard someone say,

"John, truth or dare?"

Sherlock looked around at John who was still sitting with the girl in his lap. John looked up from toying with the girl's hair.

"Uh, dare," he said not thinking.

"I dare you to kiss Sherlock!" the person exclaimed who Sherlock now realized was his brother Mycroft who had undoubtedly been sent by their mother to spy on Sherlock.

"What?" John said incredulously, "That's absurd! I-"

"Rules are rules, and you chose dare. Complete it now please," Mycroft said in an almost bored tone, toying with his umbrella with his wrist.

The girl got up off of John's lap and he went over to Sherlock.

"We don't have to do this if you don't want to," John said quietly to Sherlock, "I can chicken out or we can leave-"

"Wouldn't want anyone to think you weren't brave enough to do something as trivial as kiss me," said Sherlock who really wanted John to kiss him.

"Yeah, ok," said John.

"It must last for a duration of at least fifteen seconds to count," remarked Mycroft.

"Bastard," muttered John. Sherlock chuckled and suddenly felt John's lips on his.

The dark haired boy's stomach tied in knots and filled with butterflies and a whole load of other cheesy romantic stuff. Kissing John was…electric? Magical? Indescribable.

He felt John bring his hand up to the back of his head, knotting his fingers in the dark curls.

_Instinctively, _Sherlock thought trying to mentally justify John's actions, _he's just doing that because that's what he does when he kisses girls…._

His thoughts trailed off as the hand at the back of his head brought him closer to John. He let go of trying to deduce John's actions and let himself enjoy it until they broke apart.

"Was that long enough for you, Mycroft?" John asked a bit breathlessly.

"Quite. It was thirty- five seconds."

Both boys blushed and looked away from each other. The girl John had been talking to stood up and stalked in a huff.

"Let's leave Sherlock," suggested John.

Sherlock and John exited the house and got into Sherlock's Smart car. (When his parents were buying a car, he'd insisted on this one saying he only had one friend to drive with him anywhere.) They didn't talk about what they'd just done, but rode home with their hand in hand.

After Sherlock dropped John off at his house, he drove home reflecting on what had turned out to be the best night of his life.


End file.
